London Calling
by fionadaydreamer
Summary: A young woman suddenly finds herself in London in the Victorian Era and stumbles upon two familiar characters that she thought they never exisited. Will she find her way back with their help?
1. Chapter I

Everything is black but I hear many sounds around me near and far. People talking, shouting and singing. The loud rattling sound of carriages and hooves of horses clopping, whinning and snorting. The air held a strong unpleasant smell of manure, coal and alcohol. Soon the blackness disappears and began to see shapes moving. Soon my focus was normal and realised I was lying on the cobble-stoned ground facing to the grey sky. All the houses around me are built out of bricks and from the chimneys rolled out dark smoke. From the architecture I recognised they are English.

"Oi lad! Move aside! You're in the way!" Called a man behind me from a certain distance.

I turned to see, a man sitting on a hansome in a long coat and bowler hat with a whip at hand was there. I blinked, staggered to my feet and stepped aside. As I moved, many people stared at me bewildered as if I were some sort of alien. Especially the women. Damn! I am wearing trousers and trousers at that time was only a fashion made for men. I should better be out of sight for some time. I began walking down a street. Hoping to find something that would help me be out of sight for some time and perhaps get some proper clothes to blend in. With my great eagerness and without thinking what danger might lie ahead I entered into one building without ringing the bell. Once I shut the door I leaned beside it against the wall and gave a sigh. Realising my blood pressure was a bit low at the moment, is it shock or something else? I wondered while I heard a soft never ending peeping sound in my ears and saw strange colourful spots dancing around the corners of my eyes.

Not very long appeared an elderly lady in a long black dress with white hair tied to a bun. "What on earth are you doing here? Get out at once! Get out or I'll call the police!"

"No. Please." I pleaded with a calm voice and tried to remain calm, so that my blood pressure can stabilise within minuets. Breathing in deep and breathing slowly out. "I mean no harm. Please." I continued while glued to the wall as a support.

"What's the matter Mrs. Hudson?" Called a manly voice from the stairs.

"Some boy in strange clothes has entered without ringing the bell, doctor Watson. Is he a client of Holmes?" Responded Mrs. Hudson.

Suddenly the dark figure from the stairs moved rapidly towards in the light, I saw doctor Watson's face. His face was firm. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor." With those words he placed gently a hand to my forehead and pulled from his waistpocket a watch tied to a golden chain.

"It's just low bloodpresure, it will pass in a few moments doctor." I assured.

"Do you have it often?"

"No, seldom."

"Mrs. Hudson, could you please prepare some tea for this boy. I'll take him to the couch to give some rest. Mr, if you please come with me." Gave Watson. Slowly I walked up the stairs with help from Watson and entered into a large room that looked somewhat familiar and was led to the couch. "There, now you better lie down for a few minuets. Mrs. Hudson will bring you some tea shortly." He explained.

While looking around I spotted another figure of a man standing with his back to me facing the fireplace and smoking a pipe. He wore a grey-brown tweed Jacket and long trousers with chocolate-brown polished leather shoes.

"Holmes, it would best not to smoke at the moment." Noted Watson to the figure.

"Holmes?" I called out of amazement, staring at the man with his back to me.

Holmes slowly turned round, looking to me then to Watson with a pipe in his right hand and other in his jacket pocket. He had an oval shaped pale face with a hawk-like nose and a pair of dark green eyes with thick, dark eyebrows. He said nothing but smoked at his pipe and scanned me. His confident eyes wandered about me.

Before I could say another word or do, everything turned dark before my eyes.


	2. Chapter II

"Wake up lass!" Called a manly voice annoyed and a hint of concern.  
I tried to move but everything was heavy; I swallowed and tried to open my eyes. Slowly I began to see a familiar face that I saw before not long ago. His dark green eyes were glistening of curiosity and some eagerness but to what? Me? I started to look around me and recognised the environment. Is this all a dream or is it real as I am? How did I get here? Why am I here?  
"Holmes, why do you think it is a girl when it is obviously a boy due to the clothes and short hair cut?" Gave the man with short straight golden-brown hair and a moustache upon his upper lip. His glance appeared annoyed to the other man who is called Holmes. Is it _the_ Sherlock Holmes?  
"You have again overseen the obvious my dear Watson." He paused and smiled at him. "The small booklet she carries in her pocket is written by hand and due to the writing, it is far too elaborate for any man. Also her name and address is written on the back of the cover including some strange numbers and another name that I don't exactly follow."  
"He's right." I remarked hoarsely and quickly cleared my throat. That must be the telephone number and my e-mail address. He must have checked my pockets to know that. Slowly I was able to sit up.  
"Don't overstrain yourself, take your time." Noted Watson with some concern and caution.  
"Am I in Bakerstreet, London?" Came out of my mouth without thinking.  
"Yes." Answered Watson.  
"Then you are John Watson and he is Sherlock Holmes?" I nearly stuttered of surprise; pointing my finger first to Watson then over to Holmes who had seated at the time in his favorite chair close by the fire and smoked his pipe.  
"Yes." Gave Watson in the same fashion as before. "What's wrong?"  
"What's wrong?" I repeated and placed a hand to my head. "Actually nothing but I just can't believe it."  
"Young lady, you surely have come here to share a story where you can't make heads or tails of it. My patience is wearing thin so please come to the point." Remarked Holmes in controlled anger.  
He can't see it! Holmes, the master of deduction can not see my story from my clothes or booklet?  
"Why so silent miss? Explain why you cut your hair and dressed yourself as a boy who's trying to be a journalist or author!" Gave Holmes standing up and walked a bit closer to me.  
"That is not my story Mr. Holmes." I corrected.  
Holmes froze and blinked, so did Watson.  
Due to their faces which were price-less I held myself together from bursting out laughing but a smirk got away nonetheless. "These are my normal clothes from where I come from and I'm not a journalist but a leisure writer." I paused. "I am one of many secretaries of the company Nestle in Vevey, Switzerland." I knew very well that in the Victorian Era the company Nestle existed already and was well known across Europe.  
"Miss, I know you are talking English with us and it all makes sense but then again not. Your clothes still confuse me." Spoke Watson.  
Suddenly Holmes stepped in. "Miss Eleanor Wanett, could you please explain the numbers under your address and that other odd name written in your booklet?" Asked Holmes eager.  
I was not surprised that he knew my name, because he checked my pockets. Quickly I drew out from my pocket my A5 format green leather bound booklet and showed them my address. "The numbers under the address is a telephone number and that below is nothing, just some scribbling I did the other day." I do not know if I influence some part of history if I mention the word 'e-mail'.  
"Telephone number? How is that possible? Many inventors are trying to improve the telephone so that it can be practical for everyone. Especially from Switzerland, the land where many things run slower than usual." Gave Holmes surprised.  
Wow! He knows Switzerland that well? Has he been already at Reichenbach, Meiringen? I wonder.  
"This must sound absurd me telling this but I see no other explanation. Do you come from a different time?" Holmes asked. His eyes glistened with curiosity and searched in mine the answer.  
"Holmes!" Called out Watson, looking over to him.  
"Yes; from the year 2015 to be exact." I responded calmly.  
They both glared at me in surprise. "2015!" They called in a chorus.  
"How did you get here in London in the year 1885?" Asked Holmes eagerly. "Above all, how is it possible?"


	3. Chapter III

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue. I just suddenly woke up in the middle of the street not far from here and the rest you know already." I explained truthfully.  
Very silently entered Mrs. Hudson with a tray of tea and some biscuits and placed them gently upon the table. "Thank you Mrs. Hudson." Thanked Watson gratefully while walking up to the table and Mrs. Hudson left again. Holmes' eyes followed her closely until she was out of the room and then back to me.  
"I know there must be a reason why I am here but I forgot. I remember what I did the day before and further deep in my past but how and why getting here is forgotten."

Soon Watson returned with a cup and two bits of biscuits and handed it to me. "Have you suffered lately memory loss?" He asked.

I thanked as I took the cup and took a small sip. Earl Grey in its finest quality with a few drops of lemon juice. I shook my head to Watson's question. "No, actually I have a good memory to memorise. Especially what I saw."

"You mean, you never forget a face?" Wondered Watson before Holmes was about say something but shut quickly his mouth and listened.

"Yes and I notice small details that others easily over see."

Holmes' only reaction was a twitch of an eyebrow while Watson looked stunned at me. "Do you know Holmes' method?" He asked astounded.

"I've read it twice but many years ago, I only remember fractions of it but a part of it has inspired me to look at the world differently ever since." I gave honestly.

"Then pray tell, how things run in _your_ world?" Asked Holmes.

"Well, what exactly do you want to know how it runs in _my_ world?" I asked. Not knowing where to start.

"Do the people have the same minimal intellect as they have here? What transportations do you use? How do you communicate in great distances?" Described Holmes eagerly.

I do not know if I should tell everything. Will it involve my future? Holmes and Watson are actually trustworthy men; they know already that I am from the future. I hope it does no great harm. Without any interruption I explained to them my world in the fullest detail I could. Knowing there are a few things they can not imagine even if they try very hard. Then again for me it was barely believable that I sit here before Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in London in 1885. Everyone in my world said that they never existed yet here they are listening to me and believing the words I say. This must be some vivid dream! As I finished explaining I quickly bit my lip and pinched my arm.

"Miss Wanett, why do you still think it is all a dream?" Asked Holmes while his fingers pressed one another by the tips, shaping a mountain.

"Everything is unbelievable for me. Many people from my world say that you two never existed and yet here you are. Plus I had a small piece of doubt before."

"Before." Repeated Holmes. "And now no more?"

I nodded.

"Then this is the most intriguing case I have ever stumbled upon. Something totally afresh and special. The only lead that is open aside from your mind would the place you appeared." Smiled Holmes while thinking out loud rather than talking to Watson or me.

"Hold on a bloody minuet Holmes!" Stepped in Watson. "Do you seriously believe everything what Miss Wanett told to us?"

"Why yes. Why should she lie? Why would she bite her lip and pinch her arm? Why wearing trousers and short hair when she is in fine health and not a lad?" Remarked Holmes calmly.

Watson froze in awe wide-eyed and was speechless. In his grey blue eyes I saw that he understood, slowly.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Called Holmes and quickly paced into a different room which I presume it is his room. "Mrs. Hudson!" He called again.

Watson thawed from his icy shock as Mrs. Hudson entered the room. "Yes Mr. Holmes!" She called while starting to search to Holmes in the room.

Holmes quickly reappeared again dressed in a fine dark tweed suit with matching waistcoat and a pair of polished black-leathered round-ended shoes. Facing Mrs. Hudson. "Could you please organise some proper clothes for Miss Wanett?"

"But! It's a boy not a girl Mr. Holmes!" She remarked angered.

"It is a lady Mrs. Hudson. Her name is Eleanor Wanett." Explained Watson while helping me slowly onto my feet. The tea and biscuit have given me strength and the low blood pressure is gone.

"Alright." She mumbled to herself and led me upstairs to her room. "First you shall have a bath and afterwards we will see what we can do." She brought and filled many buckets of water, some cold others hot. I asked politely if I could be of assistance but she refused. Soon she added some flakes of soap into the water and mulled it with her hand.

Hesitantly I unchanged and stepped into the white bathtub. The bathroom was entirely white with never ending shiny tiles. Suddenly a great warm soft wet sponge was in my face and rubbing about roughly. Quickly I pushed it aside.

"Don't be such child now." She remarked and continued to rub my back.

I said nothing but gave a sigh.

"My apologise for mistaking you for a boy before but don't you worry. With a fine dress and a hat you will look more feminine again." She apologised and tried to cheer me but it was no use because I dislike wearing hats.


	4. Chapter IV

"There now, you look like a fine young lady." Smiled Mrs. Hudson, her hands clasped together.  
I looked into the big mirror. Trying to recognise myself in this dress that I'm wearing. The whole dress was in plain pine tree green with black satin rims. I wore a lose, long armed snow-white blouse with a small white scarf from its time. The long sleeves that were a bit lose at the shoulders and very tight at my wrists. The long skirt had a back drapery with a small bustle on top that gave a proud air. Simple yet elegant and astoundingly annoying with the corset giving me a stiff back. Luckily it is autumn and not summer or I would have melted away in a sticky fashion. I blinked of surprise, barely recognsing me.  
"How long are we going to wait until she is ready? We have wasted enough time waiting as it is!" Called Holmes below my feet. Mrs. Hudson's room is exactly above the living-room where Holmes consults his clients.  
"You're ready, now. That man never had great patience, yet I'm surprised that he has come this far in life." Gave Mrs. Hudson friendly while leading me down the stairs.  
Watson froze and blinked as he saw me enter the living room. "Mrs. Hudson, are you sure this is the same lady I asked you to assist some suitable clothes?"  
"It is. Even with her short boyish hair-cut she appears now better." Responded Mrs. Hudson with a sense of pride.  
Before Watson could say anything further Holmes spoke. "Finally! Now we can take leave and investigate the place where you first appeared." And rushed past me towards the stairs. Kindly and fast Watson helped me wearing my small black hat and street jacket and we rushed after Holmes. All ready at the stairs I nearly tripped because of the skirt and the shoes. Luckily I had one hand at the railing. How can a woman move about in this contraption that has no other purpose than to appear beautiful and elegant?  
Soon we caught up with Holmes who was waiting few meters away ahead of us.  
"Holmes! Have some patience with Miss Wanett! She is not accustomed to wear a dress and above all in this environment." Remarked Watson nerved and controlled.  
Holmes said nothing but gave a short glance to Watson then to me.  
Soon I showed them the street where I came to and how I came to their door. Holmes said nothing and watched. Watson asked a few questions and took notes. I explained in the fullest detail that I could remember of the occurrence. Sooner than I had thought Holmes, Watson and I were back in the living room. Holmes seated himself in his favorite chair, lit his pipe and his thick dark eyebrows were knitted in deep thought. Quickly I looked over to Watson who just hung up his hat and placed his walking stick amongst the umbrellas and other sticks. He placed finger to his thing lips and waved a hand for me to come over. As I walked over he explained in a whisper. "He's thinking now very deep and does not like to be disturbed for the time being. It is his sort of meditation. Everything has to be silent as the grave."  
"Then what am I to do for the time being? Seek an accommodation?" I asked softly.  
"That wouldn't be such a bad idea, Miss Wanett."  
"But I don't know my way around London and know no friends."  
"I know someone who would gladly take you in. Come with me." Gave Watson and grabbed his hat.  
Along the way out we met Mrs. Hudson with a tray of hot tea and biscuits. "Where you two going? I just prepared some tea."  
"Oh, my apologies Mrs. Hudson but I'm bringing Miss Wanett to her new accommodation for the time being here." Explained Watson and opened the door for me. Once we were out Watson called out for a cab. Shortly a hansom halted and Watson helped me stepping in while telling the driver the address.  
As the hansom was in motion and we sat on opposite sides. "Thank you." I thanked.  
"For what?" Wondered Watson.  
"For trying to help me and now giving me accommodation for my time being here."  
"I'm sure you would have done the same."  
I nodded, true I would have. I looked out the window. Many houses built in bricks stood close together while dark smoked rolled out of the chimneys. Many people worked or begged on the streets, some had a market stand, others a shop. For a moment I thought my time would be more busy than this but I was wrong.  
Suddenly the hansom halted and the driver shouted to make way.  
"No worries. Just some minor accident happened." Noted Watson calmly.  
I was looking that disquiet? I looked out the window again. I saw how few men moved aside few torn bits of wood of a large box and an uneasy heavy horse.  
"My! Something went amiss with hoisting a large container." Gave Watson as he looked out the other side.  
Soon the hansom moved on. After a quite a while we reached the address that Watson told. Before us stood a great mansion of marble. A mansion of wealth without a doubt. I swallowed. I followed closely behind Watson as we stepped in front of a large massive wooden two-winged door. Watson pulled gently the lever of the doorbell.


	5. Chapter V

Why am I so afraid? A lady should not be afraid. Watson trusts this person then so can I. I took a deep breath. Luckily Watson did not notice my fear as Holmes would have. Soon an elderly man answered the door. He wore a black suit with a grey ascot and his short snow-white hair was combed. Due to the suit and way how he looked at us it obviously pointed that he is a butler. "Yes?" He asked nearly in one tone like a butler does at the door.

"Hello Edward, how are things here?" Spoke Watson friendly with a smile to the butler.

"Why! Dr. John Watson! A pleasure seeing you again." Gave Edward cheerily with a pleasant grin.

"It is indeed. Say Edward, is it possible to see her?"

"Of course! Come in, come in." Welcomed Edward friendly. His eyes wandered to me.

"Oh, that's Miss Eleanor Wanett. She's a client of Holmes and needs an accommodation for her time staying here." Introduced Watson.

"Right this way Miss Wanett, Watson." Spoke Edward composed and led us into the house. We soon found ourselves in a beautiful large room were the walls were filled with leather bound books thin and thick. I presume it is without a doubt the library due to the solid wooden table and a magnificent globe. I wonder who Watson meant with 'her'? "Please, wait here. She will be with you shortly." Spoke Edward and left us.

Watson took off his bowler and placed it on table and soon arranged his tie. Could it be that 'she' is Watson's fiancé? Mary Morstan?

"About time that you came by." Suddenly called a woman's voice from above us. We looked up. There stood at the balcony of the library a young woman in her 30s had her curly long blonde hair tied up. She looked pale having powdered her cheeks and added make-up around the eyes and lips. Her lips were blood red coloured. She wore a dress that has a mid blue tone and had a bigger bustle on the skirt. What made the dress special was that around the corset were bits of red - and the rims of the dress were sewn with red satin. "I'll be right down." She noted as her sky blue eyes wandered from Watson over to me and vanished. Soon she appeared at another end of the library walking up to us. "Who is this young lady you brought along?" She wondered with a smile yet in her tone I noticed a hint of jealousy and caution.

"Mary my dearest. This is Miss Eleanor Wanett. A client of Holmes." Introduced Watson calmly.

Mary's eyes scanned me which made me feel uneasy.

"Miss Wanett this is my fiancé, Miss Mary Morstan." Said Watson in the same fashion as before.

Morstan walked up to me and offered her hand to shake. I gave mine with a grin. "Pleased to meet you." I gave slightly nervous.

"Miss Wanett needs an accommodation." Explained Watson.

Morstan turned to him then to me. "I see. I don't mean to be rude but does she not have friends in London for her to stay?"

"No. That is why I brought her here."

Mary Morstan quickly took Watson's hand and led him to the other end of the room and excused me for a moment.

I heard nothing but saw from their bodylanguage that there was an arguement going on between the two. Soon they ended their discussion and walked up to me with composed smiles. I sensed their masks hiding their true emotions.

"Miss Wanett you're very welcome to stay here. Welcome to Blackwood Manor." Said Morstan in a composed tone.

"Thank you for your generousity." I paused. "If I cause too much trouble I can find an accommoda-"

"Too much trouble?" Remarked Morstan surprised. "No, not at all. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need. It is rather my fiancé who causes a lot of trouble lately." She explained, whispering the last sentence.

"Mary." Groaned Watson annoyed while rolling his eyes. He heard it alright.

"Yes, my love?" Remarked Mary innocently looking to him.

Watson said nothing but gave a broad smile to her.

Mary looked back to me with the same smile. "Come with me, I'll show you your room." And walked ahead. As she opened the door Edward came walking to her and asked for somerhing. She gave instructions and soon Edward left as he came. I followed her, leading me up the stairs to the first floor. Not very long she opened a door and made gesture for me to enter.

The room I entered was huge compare to my bedroom back in 2015. A huge queen-size bed stood on my left side of the room and a boudoir table at the other end facing the bed. Everything was modern decorated in its time and in red.

"I hope the 'red room' would be suited for you. My bedroom is right here, next to you." Mary pointed the next door on my right.

"Thank you very much Miss Morstan." I thanked as politely as I could and show my appreciation.

"Please call me Mary." She grinned.

"Likewise, call me Eleanor or Ellie." I noted.


	6. Chapter VI

For the rest of the day Watson and Morstan kept in entertaining company, telling of their story how they met in one of Holmes' cases. They told me what is worthwhile my stay in London to visit and see. The hours passed quickly and before I knew we were seated in dining room having a traditional British dish and it's not fish 'n' chips as a hint. A delicious Shepard's pie with fresh vegetables and a glass of fine red wine from France.

Although everything was entertaining, interesting and wonderful my thoughts always wondered what Holmes might be doing at this hour? Still meditating or has he found another lead to it all and went straight to its source? There are so many possibilities. The least would be waiting for me in order to ask few questions. Later on I lay in bed, tossing and turning. Not able to sleep. My mind would not stop wondering why I am here and what Holmes might come up. I sighed and sat up. Pulled my knees closer and wrapped my arms around me while looking out the window to the night starry sky without a moon. Why am I here? All I can remember is that I went into some portal and appeared here in the Victorian era. Is this the real world, is it a parallel world or in some different dimension? There must be a reason why I went into that portal. Now I can recall but only ghostly two young men at about the same age as me. Brothers? Do not jump to conclusions without any real facts. _Data, data, I cannot make bricks without clay._ That is also what Holmes would say to my thoughts. Then why is it bothering my so that leaves my restless? It is all thanks to my stubbornness and having the urge to find the truth, no matter ugly or not. I sighed deeply knowing I can not find the answer to this mystery I find myself in in this time.

"Come on! This will be fun. You always wanted to go there and see it for yourself." Called a shadowy figure of a young man standing close beside the portal with a British accent in French.

"Non! I'm not going this may be too dangerous! What if it inflicts in history and the present?" Remarked another shadowy man too in French, taking few steps back with precaution from the portal.

"Don't worry. As long we don't do anything rash, all should be fine and be back in no time." Noted the other by the portal.

Suddenly an alarm sounds off and red lights flared from every corner.

"Mon dieu! What's happening?" Called the cautious man worried. Looking around.

"Merde! We've been spotted!"

Out of cautious reasons I decided now was the time to get out of here. Slowly and silently I stepped over billions of cables thick and thin. Alas over one step I did not lift my leg high enough and got caught in the cable. I tripped and fell with gasp.

"Zut! Is someone there?"

I did not answer. All I wanted was to get out. Quickly with all my strength I stood up and began to sprint as fast as I could. Before I could start sprinting a firm hand took hold of my wrist. "What do we have here? Une petite?" Once I knew I was caught a firm arm was resting close to my throat and the hand under my ear. With one firm, short and fast move I am done for. The man who stood once close beside the portal was now behind me and holding in the threatening position. "What are you doing here, mademoiselle?" The man spoke softly to my ear what gave me a shiver down my spine.

Before I could answer the other man spoke with a slight trembling voice. "That's Mademoiselle Eleanor Wanett, my secretary."

I did not react in surprise and the man's figure became colourful with a face and clothes of a suit. The top director of the company! I was speechless.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Wanett. Is she French? Never mind. How about it? We join with her into time and lose her there or she goes ahead? Make it quick before the portal shuts. It only opens on planned times that I have remembered all in my mind. They appear always in different times irregular but not to me." He chuckled. "Now what's it going to be, monsieur and make it quick?"

The director looked at me worried. In his dark brown eyes I saw that he did not want me to be involved. He wanted to give me freedom. "Monsieur, what must I do to liberate her?"

"Oh, so you have some liking to this petite. Good taste. Very well." Suddenly the man behind me pulled me harshly towards the portal. I gasped and tried to fight. "Attention petite, remember there is a hand ready to twist, ma chère." He spoke softly again to my ear that sent a shiver. I immediately stopped fighting. "There now. Was that so hard?"

"Monsieur, please let her go. We can come to an understanding without her involved. I'll gladly pay you a handsome sum if that is what you want." Stepped the director closer.

The man behind me chuckled and pushed my abruptly into the white light flowing portal. Fear was so great within me that it took hold of my voice and thus was not able to scream. My hands vainfully reached out to grab the floating picture of the director sprinting towards me and reaching out a hand too. My back was facing the unknown while my eyes remained focused with my hands to that picture that slowly floats away.

Suddenly within a blink of an eye, pictures of my friends and family went through my mind smiling at me under the warm sun of summer. Contented grins but in their eyes I sensed sadness and goodbye. If death awaits then it is the inevitable. I have lived my life the best I could without regrets, loving my friends and family. Sadly, I could not complete my history fiction story to publish it but it was fun writing it so far...

Rapidly I felt something soft at the back of my head and my back landing on something soft too. I blinked. After a long moment I stared up to the white ceiling of the 'red room'. It was a dream? Quickly I assembled what I had gathered just before. Slowly I turned my head to the window and sunbeam was pouring on the parquet wooden floor. It was the morning sun. I took a deep breath. So it was dream? Recalled just about everything from my sub conscience. Then again new questions arouse. What has the director to do with such a portal? Who was the other French man who pushed me into all this? I do not want to confront that man again but I have no choice when I want to return to my world. Just thinking of him makes my hair stand up.

Quickly I got up and began to dress myself for the day. I shall visit Holmes. I am eager to give new clues and hear what he might have found. I did not get far with dressing the corset is laced at the back. I stood by the mirror and tried my best lace it to my comfort. While trying to lace a knocking came from the door. "Who is it?" I asked.

"It's me, Mary." I heard her muffled voice behind the door.

"Come in." I insisted and continued to lace.

"Oh, let me help you, Eleanor. That's the hardest part in the dressing routine." Noted Mary and walked up to help with the lacing.

"Thank you." I thanked politely.

"There, is it good or is it tight?" Wondered Mary while looking with into the mirror.

I grinned. "It's fine." Mary continued helping me dress the rest and add some make-up upon my eyes and cheeks.

"There, now comes your feminine with that lovey paint and powder. Just curious." She cleared her throat and appeared somewhat shy or nervous the way she gripped to the hair brush. "Why did you cut your hair?"

Of course! Not every woman here have short hair like I do unless they were very ill. I believe giving my honest answer would be alright. "The long hair got in the way of my daily routine and I barely had the time to tie them to a braid or bun in morning."

"That's a shame. You have such lovely hair in that golden-brown colour. Even soft to the touch." Noted Mary with a friendly grin and began to brush my hair.

I shrugged my shoulders with a smirk.

As I was ready Mary and I went downstairs to have breakfast. Watson sat already at the table and drank his cup of tea while reading the newspaper with a crossed leg over the other. "Watson dearest, I would be appreciated to sit properly in front of our guest." Noted Mary with a stern tone as we seated at the table.

Watson quickly removed the leg with a frowning but quickly cleared his throat and along a grinning expression to conceal it and a short "Good morning." to me and Mary before continuing to read in his newspaper.

Mary offered me a hearty English breakfast but I refused and ate few bits of toasted toast with butter and marmalade along with a cup of tea. The English breakfast is in my opinion too greasy and too much meat as a start of the day. "So, do you have any plans what you will do today?" Wondered Mary. Watson quickly folded the page of the newspaper down to see me with a questionable gaze.

"Well, I thought on visiting Holmes to see how far he's gotten and otherwise to see London." I gave honestly.

"Seeing Holmes?" Wondered Watson calmly with high raised eyebrows of doubt.

"Well, why not? If you want to I could show you London afterwards?" Suggested Mary with a grin.

"That sounds lovely. Thank you, Mary." I thanked.

Once we have eaten our breakfast Watson, Mary and I headed by hansom to Bakerstreet, London. Mrs. Hudson greeted us warmly and headed straight up to the room. As Watson opened the door and stepped in looking at one certain direction. I quickly followed his gaze. Holmes was peacefully smoking at his favorite pipe close by the fire standing up straight, as I saw him the first time. Only fully dressed.

"Ah, about time you came. I have further questions to ask Miss Wanett."

"Then you aren't meditating anymore, Mr. Holmes." I noted. "I'll gladly answer further questions in the fullest detail I can and I have few more information that may be of use to you." I grinned.

"Good morning Miss Morstan." Noted Holmes shortly to Mary and then his pale green eyes wandered to Watson. Quickly Watson walked to Mary and bid her politely to step out because it is private. Mary at first refused but then went down the stairs.

Holmes gestured me to take a seat and sat at the opposite side with highest attention. "Ladies first." His grinned with excitement, even his eyes flickered with the same emotion.

In fullest detail I explained of my dream to him what I saw and learnt. Holmes remained silent and puffed at his pipe. In the end of my explaining he remained for a short moment silent in thought. I too pondered over the things I said to him and what I knew. Things are starting to appear clearer; dark things are stepping into the light.


	7. Chapter VII

On second thought having now told my dream to Holmes and Watson I feel like a mad person. Why could that dream from all others define the reason why I'm here and probably show how I got here? Maybe in my subconscience I am still getting over this sort of shock and thus the dream. What if all this is only a dream? But if it is than how can I faint within a dream?

"Rest assured Miss Wanett, the dream you've just explained reveals many important clues and thus searching for the right facts. The last thing you need now is self-doubt." Holme's pale green eyes pierced into my mind. I looked down at my hands, they were balled to fists with white knuckles.

"Holmes!" Barked Watson nerved with narrowed eyebrows and frowning mouth while looking at him.

"Watson?" Remarked Holmes calmly while puffing at his pipe and facing him.

"Why would she have self-doubt? She isn't doubting anything." Noted Watson.

A broad grin curved Holmes' thin lips. Watson rolled his eyes, looked away with crossed arms. "I've overseen it, again." He mumbled loud enough.

Suddenly the door knocked. We all turned to the door with eager curiousity. Mrs. Hudson's face peared from behind the door. "Sorry to interrupt you-"

"Mrs. Hudson! You know exactly how the situation should be handled when I'm with a client!" Barked Holmes in an unexpected bewilderment. "Not to be disturbed at any cost!" He paced to her and was about to push her out. "But there's a gentleman downstairs wanting to see Miss Wanett!"

Holmes froze. I blinked and looked to Watson, he was looking at me with a questionable gaze. Quickly I looked back to Holmes.

He was staring intensively down in his hands at the card that Mrs. Hudson handed. Without another word he handed the card to me. Watson looked over my shoulder to read along. "Show him up." Gave Holmes in a soft tone to Mrs. Hudson.

"Who is that gentleman?" Wondered Watson. Before Holmes or I could explain the man stood by the door removing his hat.

Staring wide eyed at me. For a brief moment he gave a warming smile but it soon vanished and looked at Holmes and Watson. He wore a befitting dark tweed suit with a bowler. He still had his usual short hair cut to the ears in his natural dark chestnut brown, large dark eyes and clean-shaved yaw and upper lip. "I was hoping to find with your help Miss Wanett but it appears she found you."

"Pray, take a seat and tell us everything you know." Gestured Holmes to an empty seat while walking to his favorite chair. Watson seated on the other end of the sofa from where I sat. It does my heart glad to see a familiar old face, my boss, Charles Antoine Nestle.

Charles took a deep breath while bitting his lower lip. I presume gathering the right words how to explain. He looked at me for a moment and then looked at the others. Holmes puffed at his pipe and Watson had his note book ready to take notes like a journalist. "Actually I was prepared to discuss of Miss Wanett's situation but it seems you all know now about the same as she does." He paused. "I never thought he would be able to do something like this. A time portal. All this time I never took him serious about it and sadly Miss Wanett is now pulled into this. Casted by him with some mind blockage that he can control, easily noted as amnesia."

"Then Miss Wanett has been a very resourceful woman, her dreams, her subconscience, revealed many important facts for us to enable to follow." Spoke Watson.

Charles blinked at me surprised. "How's that possible?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I wonder myself that too. "I don't know. Maybe the inventor oversaw a flaw that makes this possible."

"An interesting thought Miss Wanett but I must wonder, what is the reason if the inventor did this to Miss Wanett?" Holmes folded his hands together under his chin.

"All in all the inventor sees this as a game." Noted Charles. Suddely he blinked and his eyebrows were narrowed in thought. "I remember, he did show in an uncomfortable manner interest in Miss Wanett. Perhaps that has an influence."

"Not perhaps. It is a fact. The inventor does, Mr. Nestle." Assured Holmes calmly.

"Then this means we're not facing some mad inventor! He is madness itself!" Called Charles concerned with widened eyes.

We all grinned at him. Knowing clearly what he meant.

"Well, I mean when in love." He paused and looked me with flushed cheeks.

I blinked at him surprised. I knew he respected and treated me well as a secretary but this far has never crossed my mind. He always was escourted by pretty ladies for lunch mostly and at times for dinner when business calls. Sometimes we did have short chats over certain business opinions and once or twice over private matters but love never came to mention in anyway.

"Mr. Nestle, tell us about the inventor." Asked Watson.

"An excellent question, Watson. Pray tell." Noted Holmes.

Charles took a deep breath while kneading his hands. "All I know is his name is François. I met him unexpected one evening at a bar. The booze was talking instead of my clear conscience. Began to blabber about my childhood dream for no reason, wanting to timetravel with a time-machine. Suddenly he was there, with a broad smile on his face, sitting next to me. He listened to every word I said and explained that he can manage that some time soon. I didn't take him serious so I laughed." He paused and looked down at his hands before looking back to me, Holmes and Watson. "Few days later he came to my office and mentioned about the other night what I said and what he noted. I laughed and explained that he has stepped into the wrong office. Since then he would not leave me alone, so convinced and determined that it is possible. Then out of thin air he stopped trying to convince me and finally left me in peace until few days ago he, somehow managed to, sneak into my office and dragged me out in the most casual manner to his laboratory. You would think the lab is outside the building but it was all this time down in the cellar. François is a respected electricioner in my company."

I held my breath. Seeing a clearer picture of the whole situation. "Do you know where he is now, in London?"

"I wish I knew." Charles shrugged his shoulders with open hands.


	8. Chapter VIII

"If not London, then where could the inventor be?" I wondered and looked to Watson and Holmes.

Holmes stood up and walked to the window with folded hands behind his back. He is gathering the facts before answering the question.

"The inventor _must_ be in London or you two wouldn't be here." Said Watson convinced and then turned to Holmes.

Holmes paced up to us. In his pale green eyes I saw flicker of excitement. He must have seen something on Bakerstreet to react so and perhaps in addition an idea or plan. "Watson, why don't you accompany Miss Wanett for a walk in the park?"

"I beg your pardon?" Watson blinked in bewilderment.

"I could accompany Miss Wanett." Suggested Charles standing up.

"Holmes, you know perfectly why I can't!" Watson narrowed his blond eyebrows.

"My dear Watson, I've never doubted your loyalty."

"Miss Morstan may see it differently." Watson clenched his teeth.

"Why does it trouble you so? Then take Miss Morstan along."

Apparently Holmes does not entirely understand what it means to be engaged. I bit my tongue and suppressed my grin. I understood what was said from both sides.

Charles was scratching the back of his head with a confused looked. "What about me? What should I do?"

"You can join along the others."

"Are you joining too?" I wondered. Holmes has a plan yet I can not see it but feel it in my bones.

"I have an important appointment that will shed more light into this intriguing case, Miss Wanett. Who will arrive any moment."

"Very well. We're leaving." Sighed Watson annoyed while wearing his bowler, coat and walking-cane. Charles quickly placed his hat right and helped me with my coat.

Not very long John, Mary, Charles and I were in Kensington gardens. It was nice but somehow strange. I had the feeling of being watched. Whenever I turned to see there was nothing but from the corners of my eyes I could not stop noticing a shadow looking at me.

Is it the inventor? Telling the others is not the best option. For if it _is_ the inventor, I doubt there will be a second chance to get to him so close. Of course catching him alone will be very, very difficult. I do need help. If only Sherlock were here he would have devised a plan at a leisurely pace. As irony has it, I a leisure writer with colourful imagination lack here for a plan. As Albert Einstein used to say, _use your imagination_.

"Eleanor, is something wrong?" Asked Charles who stood suddenly beside me with a concerned look as our eyes met.

I blinked. Quickly collected my train of thoughts and grinned at him. "No. Was just thinking why being here. Wondering."

"Well great minds think alike."

"Pardon!" I stared at Charles. I think I did not hear that correctly.

"Come on. John and Mary are waiting for us." Noted Charles while taking my hand.

Sooner than I have thought we were walking through the streets of London. John and Mary showed us wonderful sights and shops. It was fun with Charles, John and Mary but the shadow is always there at the corners of my eyes. By the hour I am getting more and more nervous and curious who is this shadow following me.

Finally, an opportunity was at hand to inspect the follower closer. The others were interested in a certain shop while I decided to wait outside. Charles was otherwise always close at my side but this time he went in too. Once the door was shut from the shop I pretended to be interested at the flower stand right beside the shop. As an extra help a mirror hung from a wooden pole of the stand thus was able to see the stranger. The stranger was without a doubt a man; a man with a curly moustache and a rather large hat to conceal his face.

"Would you like to buy a fresh flower? To your lovely rosy cheeks and beautiful dress a sweet smelling flower like red roses fit perfectly, miss." Spoke an elderly woman with a warming smile, gesturing with her trembling hands to the bucket filled with roses in different colours.

"Thank you. I do love roses but could you suggest to me some other flower, roses are bit ordinary to me?"

"Well, ..." The woman talked on while I paid more attention to the mirror. The stranger suddenly stood beside me. Our eyes met in the mirror. A shudder went down my spine. With a silent gasp I turned to see the follower eye to eye.

"Oui, those lovely violets will make mademoiselle Wanett beautiful." Spoke the follower coolly while paying the flower-woman, his gaze locked to me. Gently and with a slow, cautious manner he handed to me the flower.

Slowly I took it although I did not want to have it, especially from him. I looked up as I held gently the violet in my hands. He was smirking very broadly down at me. My heart raced in fear. No, panicking is not an option. I must get ahold of myself. The opportunity is now. I took a deep breath. "François."

"Absolument. And you are Eleanor. Come with me and we can discuss in peace." He suggested with the same thin French accent I heard the last time. Now in the brighter light of the sun I recognized his face. Taking away the moustache and large top hat it is him without mistake. He placed a hand upon my shoulder and led me away from the stand and shop.

"It appears you have recovered well from your amnesia. I was for a moment too afraid to lose everything under one press of a button."

"Loose everything?" I wondered, halted and looked to him. So the mind blockage was not caused by him?

The hand at my shoulder slowly wandered towards my face and along my jawline. I turned away and withdrew few steps back. A snigger came from him. "So you know." He smiled. "How about we make a deal? You bring me Charles and a certain artifact, then both of you can return to your world. How does that sound?"

Too good to be true and what proof has he that he will hold his word? "What certain artifact would that be? The Queen's crown and/or her jewels?"

"Oh I'm not a man who is drawn to shiny things but knowledge and brilliance. It is very simple and I believe not so hard to find; Holmes' memoire."

"Quoi (What)!" I blinked wide eyed at him.

"So far I would guess that you would simply ask and Holmes will give it to you."

"Oh no! Holmes is no fool to be taken!" I snapped. My shock is turning into anger. Control Eleanor, control. Only a fool would strike with anger.

François sniggered amused. "Has anyone ever told you look so adorable with your natural rosy cheeks? Even now flushed in anger you still look adorable." Before I could give my notation he quickly took my hand, pushed me closer to him and kissed me.

Quickly with all my strength I was able to push him away and immediately rubbed off the feeling on my lips with the back of my hand. "How dare you!" I shouted bewildered.

He continued to snigger and shortly licked his lips. "What a unique taste, for a unique woman."

"Do you think you can take advantage of me besides bribing?"

"Sorry. Couldn't help it. I wanted to do that since the first time we met, in the cellar, so close. Charles really does have good taste. But to be frank, you are enjoying your stay here aren't you? Thinking almost the same like great Sherlock Holmes in this time although you are child of the modern times."

"Who are you to say what I think!" I snapped in controlled anger.


	9. Chapter IX

François chuckled devilishly. "Remember ma chére, I have the upper hand and the key to your freedom."

I glared at him while retaining my fury and the urge to choke him with my bare hands. What does he know about freedom? One thing is a fact; he sees all this as my prison. If it is, well I have to be honest, it is a pleasant cage with golden bars. Wait. Did he create the cage as in form of this different world or only the situation? Are Watson and Holmes a figment is François' creation or not? No. He wants Holmes' memoire so this means that this world was here before François. Watson, Holmes and all the others I have met so far are real as Charles and I am. "Once I have the memoire where should I hand it to you?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"Here in three days. Come at night ten o'clock sharp. No one else but you and Charles, make sure you're not followed or it's adieu to the world you've known."

My balled hands trembled in fury beside me, eyebrows narrowed and my pulse beating wildly. The urge to charge him is separated by a hair. Finish him like my character in my story does to his enemy. Stab once with a poison dipped dagger into a lung and let him die a slow and painful death. If only I had a dagger to stab.

"Eleanor! Eleanor, where are you?" Called Mary, John and Charles while looking for me. My glance remained at François.

"Go to them and remember the deal, ma chére." He spoke coolly with a smirk and covered himself rapidly with the cape like a magician does. Within a blink of an eye he disappeared without a trace.

"No!" I exclaimed in fury and vainfully reached out a hand.

"Eleanor! Are you alright? What happened?" Charles was beside me. Our eyes met and I saw his concern while he tried to read my mind. The fury in me turned to frustration, knowing too well what I must do and what to say, yet the words weighed heavier than any stone within me. Before I could utter a word, tears welled in my eyes. Those tears were too strong to swallow. A choking pain burned at the back of my throat. A sob came from me.

"It's alright, Eleanor. You're safe with me." Charles stepped closer while drying away my tears with his handkerchief.

"I saw him. François. He's here." I uttered while staring into the space where François once stood few moments ago.

"Quoi? What did he do to you?" Charles' eyes quickly scanned me to see if François might have caused me some harm.

Well in sheer honesty I could say he kissed me and made a bargain but what good will that do? "I better tell this at some safer place. Walls might have ears here." I sobbed while trying to compose myself. Swallow those burning tears of anger.

Charles nodded and walked close beside me. Upon his face I noticed his concern for me. He truly cares for me. A reassuring fact for any woman. For me, I do not know. I was contented with my life as it was. Now love stepping in, would it make it lovelier or worse? On second thought do I deserve someone like him?

I shook my head. What am I thinking? I should worry about the bargain and the key to freedom, to our well-known world. Suddenly I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I looked up. Mary gave a warming grin but in her eyes I saw her concern.

Before I was able to recollect myself what really happened I found myself with John, Mary and Charles in Bakerstreet. Mrs. Hudson noted Holmes' absence as she placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the table. Charles and Mary were sitting next to me. Mary tried to comfort me while John paced about at the windows. Keeping an eye sharp on the street to notice Holmes' return. How long will his important meeting take? Time is ticking away by the moment. I have to tell him. Of course I can tell John and Charles but I fear they might do something rash. After all it is Holmes' memoire. "Wait!" I gasped of surprise to the idea that popped in my head. So simple and no loss from any side.

"What is it, Eleanor?" Wondered Mary while John rapidly turned to me with widened eyes and Charles looked at me with the highest attention.

"John do you know where Holmes keeps his memoire?" I asked.

John blinked to recollect what I just said. Disbelief was clearly written on his face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Holmes' memoire, where is it?" I repeated calmly as before yet eager to set my idea into action.

"Why on earth do you want Holmes' memoire? And to note on, how did you know that he has one?" Remarked John sceptic and bewildered.

I looked to Mary and then to John. Hoping my glance tells him clear that Mary should not be a part of this in any way.

"Of course, I totally forgot. Mary my dearest, could you please ask Mrs. Hudson for some more biscuits?"

"What are you asking, John?" She stood up. "There's more than enough biscuits for us all even when Holmes will join in soon."

So far I know Holmes he would not eat a single crumb when he returns. No matter how hungry, suppressed by his thoughts, logic and strong concentration.

John sighed. "Alright, in truth this is something you should not get involved with in any way, Mary."

"But I want to help!" She remarked confident and sat beside me as before.

John made an exaggerated frowning face, keeping his anger under control while balling his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Mary, you've helped me a lot and for that I am for thankful but this case is too dangerous for you to get involved. Please." I tried to explain. "Leaving this to John, Holmes, Charles and me would be of further help Mary."

"But- Are you sure, Eleanor?" She looked at me with questioning glance. Trying to read through my eyes the message I am trying to send. She doubted sensing my goodbye.

I nodded and held her hand gently in mine. "I'm sure. Thank you for everything."

"Eleanor, please promise me to visit me when this is all over. Please. You've become a dear friend in such so short a time."

"I'll try however I can. You see Charles' and my home lies outside England. That's all I can say."

Mary remained silent. Striken by the glimpse of truth. Her eyes welled with tears of sorrow. "Very well." She whispered and headed silently out the room.

"I'm sorry, John." I apologized.

He nodded silently. Accepting my apology.

"Why do you want Holmes' memoire?" Asked Charles.

Oh yes! My idea to his memoire. "Promise me that you two won't do anything further until it is told to Holmes and me."

"I promise." Charles promised with a smile of excitement.

"Very well, I promise. Now please tell me what you have in mind?"

"Few hours back you found me in a lone and dark alley. Well, I met François." Charles and John glared at me with widened eyes and dropping jaws. "He made a bargain. Charles' and my key back to our world against Holmes' memoire in three days. Now, my idea runs thus, make a copy of Holmes' memoire and hand it to François. I believe François never saw Holmes' true handwriting. What do you think?"

For a long moment there was silence between the two. Soon John cleared his throat and poised himself up right with a shut jaw and normal watchful eyes. "Why would François want Holmes' memoire?"

"François explained that his obsession is of intellect and not shiny jewel or money."

"Hm, obviously." Noted Charles.

"Too obvious in my opinion." Spoke a croaking woman's voice from behind me suddenly.

I turned around to see. The same woman at the flower stand stood before us with a pleasant curving grin.

"Madame, how did you get in here? How long have you been standing here?" Asked Charles bewildered and walked up to her before John.

"Oh long enough to know the whole situation and to solve this intriguing case, Charles." The lady's voice changed rapidly to a man's voice and a familiar one too. She took off her bonnet and wig. Holmes smiled at us from beneath the make-up.


	10. Chapter X

Before we all could recollect that it is was none other than Holmes. He took a seat in his favourite chair and lit a cigarette with a curving grin upon his thin painted lips and a teasing glare.

Watson shook his head in disbelief while Charles and I blinked amazed at him. "Where- where have you been?" Stuttered Watson in awe.

"Didn't you notice the flower stand not far from Saint James Park, the one with a large mirror?" Pointed Holmes and breathed out smoke through his nostrils.

"That, was you?" Charles stepped closer before I realized. Obviously, how could I oversee such a thing?

"Yes, and I know the situation as well as Miss Wanett. What intrigues me more is your plan." He turns to me.

So, he heard a part of it or he would not be asking me to explain. I explained the idea as I did before to John and Charles about making a false copy of the memoire. Holmes remained silent and listened with the same grin and teasing glare what irritated me. Does he know more than I do? If so why would he not tell? I bit my lower lip and kneaded my hands of insecurity.

"The plan is sound and it should be put into action. If you will excuse me, I will change into some proper attire." Holmes rose from his chair and headed to his room.

I remained frozen in my seat and stared at the empty chair in front of me. I was expecting something else from him. An objection rather.

"Eleanor?" Charles turned to me and looked concerned. Suddenly I felt a hand touching gently my hands. I gasped to its tenderness. Our eyes met; I felt clearly his affection for me. No words were said but his eyes spoke. Assuring that I am not alone and will protect me at all cost. A gentle squeeze was felt from his hand to assure.

"Well then, it looks like we should get started with collecting the equipment and start writing." Suggested John while searching through a shelf and soon returned with a leather-bound book.

I blinked I as collected myself. "Erm... John, shouldn't the book appear exactly the same as the memoire? I know François is no fool to meddle with."

"Here it is!" Holmes threw the book onto the table in almost a careless fashion. He quickly slipped into the other sleeve of his jacket. Apparently, he does not want to miss a detail of the case.

I stood up and walked over to have a closer inspection.

"But-" John's eyes wandered between the book and Holmes'. "They don't look identical. Where did you buy yours, Holmes?"

"Where? The same place as usual."

"What?" Exclaimed John with a dropping yaw. "Did you have a special offer from the owner?"

"A logical thought but no. I simply found them at the top farthest shelf there is." He smirked. "If we are fast enough there might be one or two copies left." He paced off.

John gritted his teeth in dismay with a sigh. I agree, Holmes is no easy character to inspect. I gave a friendly pat on John's shoulder.

Sooner than I've thought we found ourselves in the bookstore that is right across the street where Holmes bought his book for his memoire. A young man walked up to greet us with a friendly smile and polite manner. Offering his assistance and recognized Holmes. Holmes shortly greeted and quickly came to the point about the books he bought last time. The young man pondered for a while staring up to the ceiling and quickly recalled that there is one last stock left to buy. He paces ahead towards the storage-room at the far end of the shop. Charles remained close at my side while Holmes and Watson paced ahead. I'm smaller than them and hence can't pace that fast as they do. Not to mention the dress does get in the way at times besides the high heels.

Suddenly I heard an alert short cry from Holmes. As Charles and I caught up I saw nothing of the ordinary and began to suspect the opposite hence that's the way of life or as others refer to 'Murphy's law'.

"They're. All. Sold." Mouthed Watson in shock.

"Quoi?" Remarked Charles surprised and stepped beside Watson to see for him own eyes.

"Henry, who was your last customer wanting such a book?" Holmes turned to Henry, the young seller.

"He was not the youngest nor the eldest from his looks. He spoke a slight French accent I think it was. About your height Mister Holmes and paid me a bit more than required."

"Thank you, Henry for being of great assistance." Thanked Holmes calmly and pressed Henry a golden coin unto his hand. I think that's a sovereign, a small coin of considerable worth that does not exist in my time anymore.

Holmes walked out ahead before Watson was able to thaw from his shock. Gently I tapped on Watson's shoulder to help him recover. "Holmes is without a doubt a man of mystery." He blinked astounded to the door where Holmes disappeared.

"He is but a loyal and unique friend to have."

Watson slowly turned to me. "You are indeed right although lately he seems harsh."

"That harshness might not have been meant for you unintentionally but there is honesty in them."

"No offence but how do you know him?"

I blinked. "I don't know of him much. Only few facts from what I've read and gathered now in person."

"It sounds like you know him better than I do." Watson headed out. Charles and I quickly followed. As we paced along the streets I had the feeling of being watched and began to look around. Suddenly my eyes stopped at a mirror or a liquor store and halted to inspect closer.

"What is it?" Wondered Charles concerned and followed my glance.

A dread went through my body to the thought that François might be watching us at this very moment. Does he know? Quickly I turned away and bit my lower lip to avoid saying anything.

"Eleanor?" Charles stepped in front of me; as our eyes met he felt my dread.

"There you two are. Holmes is getting impatient. Come on." Watson paced and led us the way.

In short time, we arrived at Bakerstreet. Watson searched eagerly through his pockets as the door was in sight. "Blast! That can not be!" He exclaimed and halted to search again through his pockets. "Never mind. Mrs. Hudson will not be pleased to hear this." He sighed and knocked on the door.

As expected Mrs. Hudson answered the door. "There you are Doctor. As I've expected, you've forgotten your keys." She grinned and held up a key with a silver chain.

Watson gasped. "Those are Holmes'!"

"I thought they were yours." She noted.

"Is Holmes here?" I asked as a thought passed my mind. Something unexpected, perhaps even rational but there is a logic nevertheless.

"No." Mrs. Hudson shook her head confused.

"Oh no!" I whispered in dread that my thought could be right. Placing my hands to my nose in shame.

"What? Do you know where Holmes is?" Wondered Watson surprised to me.

"Watson, do you have your gun?" I asked.

Watson and Charles blinked at me surprised. "N-No."

"Get it, now! Holmes might be in terrible danger!"

Rapidly Watson sprinted up the stairs and quickly returned while placing his revolver into his pocket. Mrs. Hudson kindly handed Watson the keys and we paced off. Quickly we were again close by the park where I met François.

Suddenly we heard gunshots from above. At a window leaning out, I spotted Holmes fighting with his hands against François. Both clinging to the revolver that pointed to the sky.

"Holmes!" Called Watson and ran towards the building. Charles quickly followed.

I remained frozen for I don't know how long. My thoughts were correct. Holmes went ahead to stop François with the element of surprise. But, if Watson has his gun then whose gun, is it? What about the key and its chain? I thought Holmes would use that as a weapon? I shook my head to clear the thoughts. I wanted to scream for help but fear has taken my voice. I bit my tongue to free my body from being petrified and ran into the building as Watson and Charles did. Once inside I noticed it was an abandoned building the heard the struggles of a fight not far. I followed the sound and soon halted at an open door. I gasped at the sight and was petrified on the spot.

Holmes held the keychain round François' neck while François had Watson's revolver pointed at Watson. In the other hand pointed the other revolver at Charles.


	11. Chapter XI

Suddenly an evil chuckling was heard in the room. As I was able to recollect what is happening I noticed the chuckling came from François. "You doubted my words, ma chère."

"She doubted nothing but did what was right!" Snarled Charles.

François cackled.

"Why laughing when there's a chain round your neck?" Hissed Watson.

"Ha! Why so angered when there's a loaded pistol pointing at you?" He sniggered.

"I will only loosen the chain when I see a clear portal open for Mister Nestlé and Miss Wanett." Holmes gripped tighter to the chains with clenched teeth.

"Oh, I see. You think you can be faster than a bullet by strangling me? Think again Sherlock Holmes. This is supposed to be elementary for you." He smirked broadly.

I wanted to act but my body was still petrified to the sight. The pistols loaded and pointed at dear friends. Even Holmes can't grasp the situation under control. François is fast, clever and unpredictable. I blinked as my mind recollected why, how and what brought to this situation. "Why-why would you go so far for a memoire?" I dared to asked as I found my voice.

François chuckled. "I hoped Holmes would ask that but it seems you're just as smart as he is." He smiled at me. "At first it was only the information and exact location of the Reichenbach incident. Moriarty did without a doubt die in the fall but he left a mark." He sniggered excited. "A mark of considerable value in knowledge but then came the unexpected, you mademoiselle. At first, I thought I could finish you by throwing into this different world but you are strong and adapted well. I began to like your thinking besides your simple looks."

I shook my head in disbelief of the information.

"You can't be serious!" Exclaimed Watson.

"Where did you gather the information?" Asked Holmes composed.

François grinned. "As an electrician I can get to just about everywhere. I found it in the attic of a customer in a leather pouch or rather folder. I recognized immediately it was an old testament unfolded and no envelope."

"Are you sure? No, testament that belongs to the owner of the house?" Wondered Charles through clenched teeth.

"I'm not an idiot! I showed it to them and they certified that it is not their's. Now, remove the chains Monsieur Holmes."

"Not, until you've assured a passage for Charles and Eleanor."

François laughed nervously. "This is indeed a sticky end but I have the leverage within the speed of a bullet or two, actually. Unless ..." He sniggered and looked to Watson and Charles.

Slowly Holmes loosened the chain. Although he remained calm and composed I saw clearly that he was angered. François kept the pistols pointed to Charles and Watson as the chain was removed from his neck. "Now that's better. As we were, the memoire, s'il vous plaît."

"Then discharge your pistols." Holmes hissed.

"Fine, but only half." François smirked and uncocked the pistol that pointed at Charles. "To keep the excitement."

Charles gritted his teeth while glaring at François. Ready to tear him in shreds with his bare hands. Quickly I paced up to him and held his hand to remind that breaking out in fury is unwise in this situation, especially with a loaded weapon. He blinked at me surprised as he felt my hand, as our eyes met he knew what I meant.

"Oh, while you're getting the memoire think and tread carefully, Monsieur Holmes. It's a hare trigger, so no heroic acts if you please." Reminded François.

Watson frowned angered and bit his lip and balled his hands into fists.

"No need, I have it here." Holmes revealed the memoire from his coat.

"Ah, trés bien." Smiled François and gestured with a hand to give the memoire.

"Uncock the pistol." Holmes demanded holding the memoire.

"Of course, once you've handed the memoire."

"No-"

Suddenly Charles ran towards François who was facing Holmes and gripped the pistol up to the ceiling. Immediately Watson aided Charles.

As I realized what happened I found the pistol thrown to the floor before my feet. I looked up, Watson and Charles held François by the arms. "Merde!" François cursed.

"What exactly was written in the testament?" Questioned Holmes

Cautiously I picked up the pistol, checked if safety was on. It surprisingly was, did Holmes notice or not? What are François and Holmes up to? I walked up to listen carefully and remained silent, did not want to interrupt in anyway.

"Well, if everyone is eager to know. Somewhere in Reichenbach, Moriarty has left information with a plan. A plan that shows of a unique technique that is to be discovered, along his bones."

A shudder went down my spine as I imagined finding Moriarty's bones close from Reichenbach fall. Although I've hiked there twice I found nothing out of the ordinary, well that was in the other world. Things run different here.

"What sort of technic?" Watson questioned and twisted François' arm tighter behind his back. François clenched his teeth with a grimace of pain but as Watson eased the arm a bit François began to chuckle. "I'll show you everything once we get to that place."

"Why do you think we should you lead you there? Secondly the distance very long from here." Snarled Charles.

François laughed. "Ha! Imbécile! Have you forgotten the portal that I can open? If one of you lets go of my arm I can lead you there."

"No." Hissed Watson.

"Show us the technic that involves Moriarty. Charles, step aside." Spoke Holmes.

Watson and Charles blinked at Holmes in disbelief. "Holmes?" Charles slowly stepped aside as Holmes instructed.

François held out some large black button upon his hand and pressed with his thumb on it. Immediately a red light began to blink and soon few meters further a moving spiral of white light spun from small to the size that is large enough of any person to pass. The white light was bright and crackled at times, it is pure electricity. A familiar portal as I have seen in the electricity room in the world I come from. "Voila, next stop Reichenbach, Switzerland."

Through the portal I recognized blurry the mountains that surround Reichenbach and the lush green fields with cows, sheep and goats.

"Then you will go first." Hissed Watson forced François forward.

"Unless it is only you and I who should be there." François smirked.

Watson halted. "What do you mean?"

"I have the key to the portal. Once I crossed a portal it shuts automatically and as you have seen, with a press of a button it opens a portal to your wishing destination. In this case you all have to go ahead of me." He smirked.

Holmes walked slowly and cautiously towards the portal. "Simply walking through the portal?" He wondered.

"Exactement."

"Holmes! Stop! This could be a trap!" Charles called out.

"If it is, then the memoire will go with me." Holmes reminded confident with a grin.

I walked up to the portal. "I will go first if no one trusts the function of the portal."

"Eleanor! No!" Charles halted me by holding onto my arm. I saw in his eyes his concern and fear for me. I turned to Holmes, his expression was composed but in his eyes, I saw that he was surprised of my courage. I looked at the portal and walked into it. "No!" I heard Charles shouting. Immediately a spray of cool water brushed against my cheek, the fresh cool smell of ice penetrated my nose and loud rushing sound almost deafened my ears. I found myself not far from the Reichenbach fall.

Suddenly a hand upon my shoulder made me wince and gasp in fear. As I looked up I noticed it was Holmes. "Use it only when it is necessary." He reminded and pointed at the pistol I had at hand. I looked into his eyes to be sure I understood correctly. "You will know when the time comes." He noted and walked on as Charles, Watson and François stepped through the portal.

"Is this the same world in 1885 or in 2015?" Wondered Charles.

"It is still 1885 only different place. Now, to find Moriarty's body I would need a part of Holmes' knowledge as to the exact location where he fell into his death." Explained François.

"Very well." Holmes walked ahead, heading closer to the water fall.

I had to bite my tongue not to stand too long petrified to the hint Holmes has given. Hinting that something terrible is still to come. Quickly and quietly I followed Holmes. While walking I hid the pistol within few pleats of my skirt. I hope Holmes knows what he is doing as well I am with the pistol.

Abruptly Holmes came to a halt. I looked sideways to see what he is seeing. There lay before his feet a skeleton with few torn bits of dark cloth and slightly overgrown with moss. A shiver went down my spine as the thought passed that the skeleton once belonged to Moriarty, the napoleon of crimes.

Suddenly bright white flickers of light began to flash around us. They flickered faster within moments and an electric sizzling was heard.

"Zut! You pressed the button!" Charles exclaimed and held up François' hand that held the button. No finger or thumb was near the button. Charles stared at the button wide-eyed.

Watson twisted François' arm slightly tighter. "This is your doing!"

"You know what is happening, tell us!" I demanded before Holmes could say something, stepping up in front of François.

François chuckled. "If you can see what I see, Eleanor. Ah, what a sight it is. Your courage is admiring as well seeing the bones that I dreamed to find. Although we are from a different world and time there are always parallels to recognize. They may not be exactly the same but have nevertheless few common qualities."

"Talk sense!" Hissed Charles. François laughed.

Suddenly Watson winced in pain and stepped back. Briefly looking at his hands and then to François astonished. "Electric shocks?" White electrical flashes began to surround François.

"No, it can not be..." Holmes spoke in disbelief while staring at François.

I looked to Holmes, immediately I spotted further behind Holmes how the bones were covered in the same light and began to float towards François. The light grew so bright and the sizzling so loud I had to turn away with shut eyes and clasped ears.

Rapidly within moments everything grew dark and silent. Slowly I dared to open my eyes and unclasp my ears. The rushing waterfall was still heard loud and recognized the familiar environment. Oddly I felt over my shoulders and upper part of my back something warm and slightly heavy. As I looked I noticed strong arms resting gently upon me, protecting me. I gasped surprised as I noticed Holmes stood over me to protect.


	12. Chapter XII

"This is poetic. Even you can see the connection with Eleanor. You just don't want to accept it, Sherlock Holmes." François sniggered.

Holmes turned to François. "That is all, is it? It was only about the bones of Moriarty. What good will they do to you?"

François was still surrounded by few white flickers and floated in the air. "Yes, it was only about the bones. But I'm sure Watson can follow with his medical knowledge, within the bones lives on the genetic code including the intellect. About the same sort of philosophy as the tribes that eat the enemy's hearts."

"You're joking! You're mad!" Exclaimed Charles.

Quickly François made a gesture with a hand towards Charles. Within a blink Charles grunted in pain as white electrical flashes appeared and tied around Charles' upper torso and arms together like a rope. Watson got tied up too.

"Charles! Watson!" I cried and wanted to aid but Holmes took hold of my hand, holding me back.

François cackles meanly. "No worries, Eleanor. As long you obey they won't be harmed."

"You're a monster!" Slipped out of my mouth and a tear of fear trickled down my cheek.

"Oh?" Chuckled François and floated closer to me. Stroking with few of his fingers along my yaw line. "And what are you then, the hero?" He whispered and tilted his head to the side.

I turned my head away from him.

"I thought as much." He smiled devilishly.

"François, remember why you are here. You've come this far for me." Reminded Holmes.

François floated over to Holmes. "Indeed, how can I forget?"

Holmes is distracting François from me, should I take the chance? Chance of escaping or to shoot François with the pistol I still have at hand? What chances do I have? If I escape the others more likely will be killed and I'll remain in this world until I die. If I shoot I could wound François fatally and then there is no way back, no portal. If only, I can aim his arm and so that it braces. The time is now or never. Suddenly Holmes' words repeated in my mind what he said as we arrived here. "Use it only when it is necessary. You will know when the time comes." I took a deep breath and watched how François floated, it was quite a calm floatation and he remained sort of on the spot. When will be the next opportunity to have such an easy aim, before anyone of us gets killed? The pistol in my hand was loaded and ready. Quick-witted I removed the safety, aimed the pistol at François and pulled the trigger as I held my breath. Hoping not to kill him and doing the right thing.

François gave an anguish short cry as the bullet braces his arm. Holmes rapidly pressed with one finger to a certain spot on the neck and François immediately collapsed to the ground. A certain acupuncture technique. The white electrical lights vanished into thin air and Charles and Watson were free.

I shot as I've hoped and yet I felt as if going into shock. Quickly I turned on the safety of the pistol and began to feel how my knees turn into jelly. "Eleanor!" Charles called and paced up to me with a concerned expression. Everything was growing heavy, so heavy that I dropped the pistol. "Eleanor!" Called Charles.

"Charles." I whispered with a trembling voice as I fought against the shock. Charles gave a relieved smile and embraced me gently. "Charles." I whispered to be sure I wasn't hallucinating, that we are safe.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have done that, ma chére." Suddenly spoke François. Before I recollect that he was laying unconscience on the ground, Charles was pushed away rapidly. I gasped to it suddenness and that François floated so close to me. "You never cease to amaze me." Suddenly I felt his lips upon mine. Quick-witted I tried to push him away from me with all my strength but he was too strong; soon I spotted the shot wound and pressed forcefully with my thumb on it. He lets go of me with a cry of agony; I made space from him far as possible and whipped away his mark upon my lips with the back of my hand. I wanted to shout bewildered at him but I was speechless.

François cackles with a hand over the wound, as Charles gave a furious grunt with clenched teeth. "Those beautiful lips still haven't lost their taste." François smirked at me.

Suddenly Holmes threw his arms around François to restrict his moves and had a pistol pointed below his jaw bone. "A single move and it'll be your last." François said nothing but it was noticeable that he was cursing with clenched teeth. I noticed now that he wasn't floating anymore. "Open a portal back to London, you'll have some explaining to do."

François scoffed briefly. "The great detective can't see the whole story?"


End file.
